“Say something,” said Mr. Cornelius’ eye to Mr. Wrenn. “You are her uncle.”
“You say something,” retorted Mr. Wrenn’s eye to Mr. Cornelius. “You have a white beard.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a time,” said Sam to Kay. “I have had a little domestic trouble. I found a gentleman burgling my house.”
“What?”
“There had been a lady there, too, but she was leaving as I arrived.”
“A lady!”
“Well, let us call her a young female party.”
Kay swung round on Mr. Wrenn, her eyes gleaming with the light that shines only in the eyes of girls who are entitled to say “I told you so!” to elderly relatives. Mr. Wrenn avoided her gaze. Mr. Cornelius plucked at his beard and registered astonishment.
“Burgling your house? What for?”
“That’s what’s puzzling me. These two people seem extraordinarily interested in Mon Repos. They called some days ago and wanted to buy the place, and now I find them burgling it.”